


Dream Yoga

by babe_without_the_arms



Series: It's Always Weird in Philadelphia [1]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 10:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babe_without_the_arms/pseuds/babe_without_the_arms
Summary: Dale teaches Albert about dream yoga.Part 1 in It's Always Weird in Philadelphia, an ongoing series of short scenes about life in the Philly office.





	

Dale was known to pace around the office while thinking through a case, but hopping up and down repeatedly without explanation was something altogether new in his kinesthetic processing.

“What are you doing?” asked Albert flatly, looking over the top of his lab report from across the room.

Dale jumped again, his eyes closed in concentration. “Albert, are you familiar with the ancient Milam traditions of Tibet?”

Albert closed the dossier, knowing the coming onslaught of information would soon be washing over him and carrying him swiftly away from his work, no matter how he chose to answer the question. “Can’t say that I am, Coop.” He leaned back and stacked his legs on his desk, settling in for the long haul.

“Milam–the Yoga of the Dream State—is a suite of advanced tantric practice of the entwined Mantrayana lineages of Dzogchen. It is held by these lineages that the dream of life and regular nightly dreams are not dissimilar, and that in their quintessential nature are non-dual. In Dream Yoga, waking life may become the dream, and the dream may become waking life. What is known in Western psychology as ‘lucid dreaming’ may be used to reveal that our perceived reality and the phenomenal world are ultimately unreal, an illusion–namely, a dream. Progressing through the practice may be metaphorically likened to living the scientific hypothesis of a resolved quantum superposition.”

“Right.”

“Have you ever had a lucid dream, Albert?”

“Once, when I was a kid.” Realizing that Cooper would probably ask him about his dream life if he left that comment alone, he quickly maneuvered the conversation back onto his friend. “So, what does ‘dream yoga’ or lucid dreaming have to do with your game of federally-funded Bureau hopscotch?”

“According to certain dream masters, one can determine if the present reality is actually a dream by jumping.” Dale hopped in place again and then paused for a moment, as if he were taking mental inventory of something. Then he straightened, apparently satisfied with his results, whatever they were. “If gravity operates as it should, then I can assume with sufficient certainty that I am currently ‘awake’–although the dream masters would teach that there is no true border between the waking world and the dream world. But if I were to hover or float, then I could conclude I am, in fact, dreaming–and likely trigger a lucid dreaming experience in the process.”

“Seems like a lot of work. You could just ask me, rather than having to go through an entire calisthenics routine to find your answer.”

Dale held up a hand, his face solemn. “Sorry, Albert. Dream characters are expected to lie about the state of consciousness of the dreamer–usually from their own ignorance rather than from malevolent intent, but they will lie nonetheless. I cannot trust your perception of reality by word alone. So far, my investigation into the laws of gravity should be sufficient to assure me that I am, in fact, awake, but I find myself unconvinced… Unless…" An illumined flash stole across Dale’s face, and he snapped his fingers in excitement. “Unless _I_ am the dream character, and this is _your_ dream! Albert, stand up and jump, quickly! It’s the only way we’ll know for sure–”

Albert grimaced. “I’ll skip the jumping jacks, thanks. Coop, while the daily activities of this office are more than enough to make any man question his sanity, I promise you, you’re not dreaming.”

Dale seemed unconvinced, possibly unnerved, by Albert’s refusal–but then his face lit up a second time, and his troubled expression was replaced with one of excitement. “Wait a minute! If this really is your dream, and I am simply a projection of your subconscious, then I will cease to exist once I walk out our office door. A dream projection cannot exist independent of the dreamer.” He smoothed his suit and then walked over to Albert’s desk, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Wish me luck, Albert.”

Albert stared at him, trying to confirm from Dale’s facial expression that he was actually being serious in his belief that he could somehow be nothing more than a “subconscious dream projection.” But that gleam in Cooper’s eye was familiar, and nothing but sincere. Albert shook his head and rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Yeah, good luck, Coop. Careful out there. Say hello to Dream Master Woo-Woo for me.”

They shook hands. And then Dale faced the door, pausing for a moment, his expression determined, before striding purposefully toward the hallway—for all he knew, straight into non-existence.

Dale disappeared from view, and a long moment of silence passed while Albert waited for Dale to say something from beyond the doorway.

“How’s the void?” He asked, loud enough for Dale to hear from the hallway.

No response. A strange white noise filled the room as a Felix clock ticked above Gordon’s desk and a fan hummed from the airvents. Albert shifted uncomfortably. The fluorescents buzzed above him–did they just flicker? He realized he hadn’t seen Gordon, Chet, or Diane yet that morning. Where was everyone?

“Coop?” He muttered quietly.

There was no response from beyond the doorway. A sudden anxiety settled into his chest, and he dropped his legs down from the desk and stood up, remembering Dale’s request that he jump—why hadn’t he just done what Cooper had asked him to do in the first place, instead of letting him traipse off… off into nothingness? He looked down at the floor and bent his knees—

“Albert!” Dale’s voice came from the hallway.

Albert jumped—involuntarily, startled—and swore under his breath, both in relief and in self-embarrassment. What the hell did he think would happen to Cooper when he walked out the door? Vanish into thin air? How did that crackpot idea get into his head? He needed a vacation.

“Good news, Albert!” Dale strode excitedly back into the office. “I carefully monitored my mental and sensory faculties after leaving your presence, and noticed no change. We are almost certainly not in a dream.” Dale gave Albert a thumbs up, and then walked smartly back to his desk to resume his work with satisfaction, leaving Albert to fumble for his cigarettes and temporarily flee the office for a smoke break.


End file.
